


Scratch

by Cesare



Category: Lost
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-15
Updated: 2006-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sawyer doesn't like Charlie, but the itch is getting awful fierce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scratch

Sawyer's been thinking about Charlie for a while now, and the itch is getting awful fierce.

He doesn't like Charlie. He doesn't like Charlie's pansy accent or Charlie's ridiculous chest-puffed swagger or Charlie's puppy eagerness to ingratiate himself to the pack. Charlie sniffing after Claire is just about more pathetic than even Sawyer's hardened heart can take, and Charlie's mama-dog attachment to Claire's baby is just _weird_.

Sawyer definitely doesn't like Charlie's fucking guitar, and the _next_ time Claire's baby gets stole off by some crazy lady, that damn guitar is going to find itself left out in the rain to get jungle rot, or maybe that damn dog can have it for a chew toy.

He doesn't like Charlie, but he's just about ninety-nine percent sure he's going to have to fuck Charlie sooner or later. Gotta scratch that itch eventually.

Charlie's short, built thin, and after the crash he looked mighty scrawny. Since then, island living and a boar jerky and banana diet put a bloom in those pale-ass British cheeks. Now he's a solid little thing, round arms and shoulders and a deep chest-- shows there's some fight in him. Then there's that nice arch to his back and round firm ass. Looking at it that way, Sawyer almost can't believe it's been six weeks and he hasn't had a piece of that yet.

Sawyer's liking the notion, yeah, he's starting to like it a whole lot. It's maybe his second favorite island fantasy these days. A real close second, right after Kate's sweet mouth and her sweet little ass. Damn, but he could get his whole hand around her round little ass, just like a basketball, and his middle finger would fit perfect down the peach-cleft middle.

Hell, he could probably do the same with Charlie. And he could probably get a blowjob out of Charlie with a lot less lip than Kate would give him-- so to speak. Charlie's mouth has a soft look to it, always just a little bit open, lips apart; you could just ease on in there and drive against his tongue and he'd take it, Sawyer can tell; yeah, he'd take it, he'd grab hold and let you pump into his mouth hard and deep, head tipped back to let it ram right down his throat...

So maybe Charlie's just about stole his way up to fantasy number one. With all the other crazy things happening around here, that'd be about par for the course.

What it's gonna require is just a little old-fashioned scheming. It'll all be easy soon as he has a plan.

Privacy's the first thing. Big old island like this, you'd think you could carve out some space where nobody else could mind your business, but there's no taking a shit around here without nine people knowing what color.

Go far enough in the woods to get away from prying eyes and that means you go missing a while, and they set up hue and cry and send out a rescue party to find you. Go deep enough in the caves, you'll be dodging falling rocks. Go out along the beach, everyone on the sand will see you, and someone will follow just to see if you know something they don't.

There's only a few special places close enough to the herd but screened-off enough for mischief, just a few tree clumps circled around that you can get inside to get some damn seclusion. Problem is, everyone else knows about them too, so's half the time, you have to keep your ear cocked to be sure you're not walking in on ol' Jin and Sun's matrimonial bliss, or whoever else is holing up in there.

But once you find a place to do the deed, the rest is easy. Sawyer always sends up a little prayer of thanks to all them poor dead passengers who packed plenty of lube. Where the hell were they all going with that much of the stuff? Gaypornapalooza? Was every damn person on the plane on their way to their Mormon honeymoon with eighteen virgin brides?

Don't make no kinda sense, but he's glad all the same. At this rate he'll have plenty of chances to get his pole greased nice and smooth by bartering customers before he has to resort to hand lotion, which he's given to understand can be a little less neighborly to the receiving party.

He's had a few of the other passengers, more'n a few, and mostly they're not half bad. Now Boone, though. Boone was disappointing. Sawyer barely opened him up and introduced himself before Boone was coming all over the place, screeching Shannon's name.

Then Boone tried to pass it off like he only let Sawyer fuck him for his sister's sake. Wanted medicine for her amnesia or some damn thing. Sawyer didn't even have it, but there wasn't any use telling Boone that, and then they got into a ripe little scuffle that left Sawyer's knuckles all busted up.

Sawyer's got a pretty good notion that Charlie's going to be a little better on that front. More fuss during, and less bull after. He's seen Charlie go trailing off with Mammy Rose to pray. Nothing like Catholic guilt to add a little something extra to an ass-reaming.

And not many things in this world sweeter than riding to a ragged high on top of a boy who doesn't want to want what you're giving him, and begs for it anyway.

Hell yeah, but that's going to have to happen, and soon. That's all there is to it. Sawyer shifts around and takes a look toward Claire's spot, and sure enough, there's Charlie.

And then Sawyer perks up, because there's Charlie _leaving,_ taking a bundle of stuff and his goddamn guitar along with him.

Well, you can't hardly get a clearer sign from heaven that you're on the right train of mind than that.

Sawyer settles back with a grin, and sets to planning.


End file.
